


closing up shop

by vivilove



Series: Tattoos & Scars [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blow Jobs, Ex-con Jon, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Self-Esteem Issues, porn with a little plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:21:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23100025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivilove/pseuds/vivilove
Summary: “Can I come over and help you close up shop?” she asks over the phone an hour before closing time. “We could grab a bite after…”He knows they’ll be doing more than locking up and grabbing a bite from her tone alone. Sansa’s been bold and then reticent by turns since things started two weeks ago, that day she’d had him come up to her bedroom so she could practice those henna tattoos on him.Looks like we’re bold tonight.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Series: Tattoos & Scars [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1660783
Comments: 68
Kudos: 258





	closing up shop

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Amymel86](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amymel86/gifts).



> Listen, I’m going to post some more WIP updates soon but Amy was mentioning how much she enjoyed my ex-con Jon drabble 'Henna' and then she went and had a birthday earlier this week so she's getting a little more of that AU :)

“Can I come over and help you close up shop?” she asks over the phone an hour before closing time. “We could grab a bite after…”

He knows they’ll be doing more than locking up and grabbing a bite from her tone alone. Sansa’s been bold and then reticent by turns since things started two weeks ago, that day she’d had him come up to her bedroom so she could practice those henna tattoos on him. _Looks like we’re bold tonight_.

The sunbursts and snowflakes she’d carefully painted on his skin are fading. They’ve faded a good deal but still just visible. They cover his back. They go all the way down to his ass cheeks nearly. He doesn’t want them to fade away, not ever. Once they do, he’s afraid she’ll fade away, too.

He’s not sure his heart can stand it.

He tells his candy ass heart to get over it. He was never meant for a girl like Sansa anyway.

For now, he’s letting her lead this dance…whatever the fuck this dance is.

“Sure, come over. We’ll lock up and grab a bite.” _I’ll buy you tacos from the food truck down the street. I’ll happily dine on your pussy._

She arrives just as the last customer and Tormund are leaving. Tormund’s eyes boggle when he sees her and Jon wishes he didn’t swell up with pride the way he does over it.

 _She’s not my girl…not really._ But he wants her to be. _She’s just having a bit of fun, taking her own little walk on the wild side,_ he tells himself. He wants it to be more than that.

It’s his first time closing up the shop for the night. Mance said it was a big responsibility, said Jon had ‘proved’ himself. Jon’s not sure what he’s proven beyond the fact he knows his way around two-stroke and four-stroke internal combustion engines. That and he’s not dipped any from the till or been caught shooting up out back or smoking pot in the men’s room where Mance’s girlfriend might smell it and give Mance shit over it. Dalla’s clean as a whistle and expects Mance’s shop to be, too.

Meanwhile, Jon’s been given a key for tonight anyway. He guesses it’s a big deal from the way that fuckface Varamyr was snarling and Tormund was beating him on the back in his good-natured way.

Twenty minutes after the door is locked, they’re hot and heavy on the leather couch in Mance’s office, like a couple of teenagers kissing, touching, squeezing and licking every inch of skin they can reach. His dick’s so hard right now he thinks he could drive nails with it. She palms him through his jeans and giggles at his groan. 

Mance's place doesn't have a rule book or hold seminars about work place behavior but Jon's pretty sure this could get him fired...especially if he jizzes on Mance's leather couch. 

She’s down to her panties and he’s still mostly dressed. She’s a fucking goddess and he’s an ex-con. It’s a crazy, mixed-up world sometimes.

Her sweater and bra are already gone, laying across the handlebars of the cherry Cobra Mance is fixing up for himself. Sansa’s rosy nipples and those perfect tits are wet from his mouth, just like her pussy is from his fingers. He tried really hard to get his hands clean, using his pocket knife even to get every speck of grease and dirt out from under his fingernails before she arrived.

She tugs his shirt off, her eyes raking his torso. Tattoos and scars. What else does she see when she looks at him? A cut guy? A rough guy? He closes his eyes, wishing his brain wouldn’t torture him over the possible answers.

She straddles his lap and kisses him soft and sweet. “Don’t worry so much, Jon,” she murmurs.

He kisses her back, so hungry for her mouth, her lips. Desperate for her touch, for the soft feel of her tits nestled against his chest and the way her gentle hands caress his body like she’s desperate for it, too. He’s dying for this closeness, this intimacy he hadn’t realized he’d been missing. It’s almost like being loved.

She slides into the floor, down on her knees in this dingy little office of a motorcycle repair shop. She starts unbuckling his belt and his pulse is racing. She’s unbuttoning next and before he knows it, she’s pulled his cock free. What would happen if Mance or one of the guys walked back in right now? At the moment, beyond somebody getting his ass beat for interrupting things, Jon doesn't care.

She hums around his cock, taking him all the way in, all the way back, before she starts sucking, her small hand around the base as she works him up, works him over and makes him hers, all hers.

He plays with her silky red hair, ignoring the naked calendar girl hanging on the back of Mance’s door with her pussy spread wide for a million anonymous guys to see. Blends right in here. Tattoos and scars, motorcycles, nudie calendars and a prison record. All par for the course.

“Fuck, baby. Suck it like that. You like it?”

_“Mmm-hmm.”_

“Fuck, I knew you did, my sweet dirty girl. Suck my cock and don’t stop till I say, yeah?”

_“Mmmm…”_

Oh yeah, a filthy mouth’s pretty much a given here, too.

What isn’t par for the course around here or anywhere in Jon Snow’s godforsaken life though is Sansa Stark sucking him off after hours on Mance's leather couch. How’d this happen? More importantly, how can he make sure it keeps happening?

He watches Sansa, in awe of this young woman who doesn’t run away from him like that calendar girl might in real life.

He looks down his chest at her with those bright eyes staring right back. She moans and slurps at his cock like a lollipop. He can feel her tits brushing the top of his thighs with her every move. He's pretty sure she's doing that on purpose. 

"Move up here," he tells her, shifting his hips until he's propped up in the corner of the couch. She can be on her knees here on the couch as easily as the floor and maybe more comfortable. Plus, he can play with her tits and finger her this way. That makes her moan again as she keeps sucking. She's so wet and he tells her about it. She moans a little louder. He fucking loves the vibration of those moans and loves knowing he's doing that to her. 

Her mother would probably faint dead away if she ever dreamt of her perfect little angel doing this…or maybe call his PO and try and get his ass violated for accepting a blowjob. That only makes Jon hotter. He bucks into her mouth…but gently. He knows there’s a line he’s not to cross. He’s figured that much out.

His balls are tightening up. He wants to cum. He’d like to cum all over those gorgeous tits like he did two nights ago but he wants something else more.

“Come here, baby.”

She pulls off him with a plop and smiles, climbing into his lap. “Did you get some for us?”

“Yeah, I did.” He’d bought a box after the other night. He’s not needed any since he got out but apparently he needs them now. Good thing he'd slipped one in his wallet. He's practically a Boy Scout planning ahead and shit. 

She kisses him slow and sweet again and he lets his fingers sink into her hair and holds her close. Goddamn, he’s getting in so deep for her.

“Are you sure you're ready for this tonight?” he asks when he’s shucking his jeans and boxers the rest of the way off.

“Yes, Jon. I want it. I want it with you.” He starts to lay her back on that couch but she grabs his wrist. “But can I be on top? I feel saf-…I like to be on top.”

“Yeah, baby. Whatever you want.”

She can be wherever she wants. She can do whatever she feels comfortable with. She’s going to let him fuck her. He won’t complain.

However, he doesn’t like that ‘I feel saf-.’ He knows how she gets jumpy, how she clasps her hands together when voices are raised, how edgy she gets and how the henna thing helps when she feels ‘tense.’ He can read between the lines. He’ll fucking beat the shit out of whoever didn’t make her feel safe before when he finds out his name.

“You’re so good, so good. My sweet girl’s so good,” he babbles when she lowers herself, encasing his throbbing cock in her tight little cunt. Fuck, he’s never going to last.

“Jon…Jon…Jon…I want…”

“What do you want?”

She doesn’t answer. She sinks her pearly whites into the wolf tat on his shoulder and starts riding him hard and fast. 

He wants to know what it is she wants but watching Sansa's tits jiggle as she's bouncing up and down on his cock and making those breathy little moans and mewls has him far too distracted. God knows, he'd give her everything. All she'd have to do is ask. Meanwhile, he's got a splendid view of her ass and his hands griping it tight thanks to the mirrored Harley-Davidson sign on the wall. 

Thirty minutes later, he’s jogging down to the taco truck to pick up dinner while Sansa's cleaning up to drive him back to his place. It’s hardly anything special to offer the girl you just fucked for the first time after she sucked your cock. It’s not much at all to offer the girl you’re falling for. But Paco’s Tacos are tasty and got a 98 on its last inspection. It’s all he can afford and he loathes the thought of her pulling out her wallet. They'll go back to his place to eat, back to his shit apartment which she pretends is just fine. It's not. It could never be enough for a girl like her. 

“I like it alright. No one’s watching me there,” she tells him.

Who’s supposed to be watching her? Is she scared of something? Is it something he can fix for her?

He doesn't know but she's wrong about no one watching her at his place. He's raptly watching her every move.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I'll probably do another one of these at some point and I really hope some of you enjoyed it!


End file.
